Behind the halfling servant was a Thalavar ship crewed by halflings, and behind the human servant was a Dhostar vessel crewed by humans. The crews of both ships had also turned their attention to the dispute and had begun to scramble off their ships onto the pier to back up the servant of their respective house.

Alias began moving down the pier, against her better judgment, but knowing she would feel bad if something happened to the young Dhostar. Victor managed to talk his family's servant into walking away from the halfling, and it seemed as if a brawl had just been averted, until the halfling called out, "That tub shouldn't just be hauling garbage, it ought to be hauled away as garbage."

The Dhostar servant whirled around, bellowing with rage, and lunged toward the Thalavar servant. Victor shouted, "Brunner, no!" but it was too late. Drawing back instinctively from the charging human, the Thalavar servant apparently forgot his footing, for he took one step too many off the stack of crates and tumbled from the pier. There was a short, high-pitched shriek and a splash as he hit the water.

Everyone froze, including Victor, for the space of a heartbeat, then, spurred by an anonymous shout of, "Get 'im!" a wall of halflings rushed the Dhostar servant Brunner. Brunner tried to swat them away, but there were far too many, and within moments he'd disappeared beneath a pile of green-liveried halflings.

Victor moved toward the pile, but Alias reached his side and pulled him back. "This could be messy, milord," she said. "Please, leave it to the professionals."

Alias waded into the fray and began plucking biting, scratching halflings off the pile, handing them to the Dhostar crew members to be restrained until they calmed down. More halflings surged from their ship and began brawling with the humans who held their comrades. The swordswoman realized she was in a race to get Brunner on his feet and away from the fray before someone, halfling or human, lost his or her temper and drew a weapon.

Then, just as she caught a glimpse of Brunner's black tabard, Alias heard the whistle and felt the breeze of a blade as it cut the air just inches above her head. Someone had drawn live steel.

Instinct took hold of her. Although she stepped back to avoid skewering anyone at her feet, the swordswoman had her blade drawn in the wink of an eye. She whirled about to meet the challenge she sensed from above. She took a defensive stance, determined that this fiasco should not end in a bloodbath, but equally determined to disarm the fool who'd first brought steel into the fray.

Her attacker's sword swept down again, still too high to catch her, but just low enough for her to block the weapon with her own. She lunged forward, and the two blades slid along their lengths until they were locked at their hilts.

Alias glared up at the armed halfling who now stood on the stack of crates. This halfling was female. She wore a scarlet-and-amber cloak cut in the latest Cormyrian style, with the hood pulled up and shadowing her face. Alias reached up with her free hand, caught the end of the tassel fastened to. the back of the hood, and yanked hard. The hood fell back, spilling long red tresses about a grinning face.

Alias's jaw dropped open, and she stood momentarily stunned.

"Well, hello, Alias!" the halfling Olive Ruskettle shouted over the din and their locked blades. "I'd been hoping we'd have a chance to cross swords again."

As Alias struggled to overcome the surprise of meeting Olive Ruskettle, and the shock of discovering that the halfling had pulled a blade on her, Olive took advantage of her. The halfling bard, with a practiced up-and-down jerk of her wrist, was able to bring her short blade to the outside of the human woman's sword, and with a quick push downward, strengthened by her own weight, was able to smash Alias's hand and blade into the top of the crate. Pain shot down Alias's arm, and she jerked backward.

"Olive! What do you think you are doing?" Alias growled as she swung with the flat of her blade, trying to swat the halfling on her legs.

"Same as you, I should think," the halfling replied, parrying Alias's blow and delivering a quick, shallow thrust. "Fighting for the good guys!"

Alias extended her sword and lunged, startling Olive into a step backward. Alias leaped onto the top of the stack of crates. "Have you gone crazy?" she upbraided the halfling. "Suppose someone sees you've pulled out live steel and decides to follow your example? You want the pier bathed in blood?"

"I hadn't thought of that," Olive said, looking momentarily repentant, but then she shrugged. "No. Everyone else is still going at it with fisticuffs. The only person paying any attention to us is that cute Dhostar lackey in the riding boots."

Alias half turned her head and caught a glimpse of Victor, standing back from the fray. With Alias's attention distracted, Olive smacked the swordswoman on the shoulder with the flat of her blade. "Verily, a touch," the halfling squealed.

Alias whirled around, furious. Her chain mail had absorbed most of the blow, but she was sure to have a bruise. That is quite enough," she snapped. She slid her blade back down along the halfling's until they were once again hilt to hilt. With her left hand she grabbed Olive's wrist and squeezed. "Hey, that hurts," the halfling complained. "Release your weapon," Alias demanded.

"Well, since you feel so strongly about it," Olive replied, and she opened the hand that held the hilt of her sword.

Alias grabbed the shorter blade with her left hand and turned the blade's tip on the owner's throat. "Now, you're going to behave," she ordered "until this thing is sorted out.",

"Okay," the halfling replied with a meek smile, but a moment later she added, "Oops, too late. Fight's over."

Behind her Alias heard a high-pitched whistle that she recognized as Dragonbait's. Alias turned to find the saur-ial, his scales glistening with water, standing on the pier beside the halfling who had fallen into the harbor. The small servant was sodden, but uninjured.

The others on the pier had also turned at Dragonbait's bidding, pausing for just a moment from their aggressions.

That pause was all Victor needed. The merchant strode to the wet halfling's side, shouting, "Please, stop fighting. This gentle being has rescued House Thalavar's shipping clerk. Should you continue this pointless brawl, we will have to call out the watch."

The combatants remained frozen, certain that they did not want to be hauled in by the watch, but uncertain that they should abandon the fight just yet. All halfling eyes were on the Thalavar family's shipping clerk.

The wet halfling glared up at the Dhostar heir. "What about my ruined clothes?" he demanded, indicating his soaked velvet tabard and breeches.

"I will be glad to make reparations," Victor replied, "once you've apologized for insulting my family's ship."

"Oh, I didn't realize it was your ship, milord. I can see now it's a bonny little craft," the halfling replied cheerfully. Then he added, "But our ship still beat it into the harbor and was at this pier first." "Agreed," Victor said.

The Thalavar shipping clerk smiled broadly. Then he turned angrily on his own workers and shouted at them like a drill sergeant. "What do you think you're doing? I didn't hire any of you to brawl on the docks! You're supposed to be hauling crates to the deck!"

The halflings scurried back aboard their ship. Two of Dhostar's men helped Brunner to his feet. The big man was quite disheveled, and his nose was bleeding, but then several of the halflings sported black eyes and bleeding noses.

"They got here first only because they cut our ship off in the channel," Brunner growled.